Infatuated With Temptation
by Gracie.knows.the.truth
Summary: Infatuation can become one of many things. Draco and Hermione taste each and every one of them, becoming tangled up in each other as they try to resist the highs of being together. When temptation is too much to handle, how will everyone react? PRE HBP
1. Infatuation Leads To

Disclaimer: Do you really need me to tell you I don't own Harry Potter or it's wonderfully created characters? Didn't think so.

Hermione Granger stared out the window of the Hogwarts Express as it clicked over the tracks, heading toward the legendary school it was named after, taking countless amounts of students as it always did. Hermione's second-year sister, Isabel, sat across from her, drawing her sisters' blank stare with her talented hand. She paid no attention when the compartment door opened, assuming it was one of her or Hermione's nosy friends. She drew her sister's loose curls that she worked hard on every morning to prevent them from frizzing out. She drew her hands, one holding up her head and the other beneath her elbow, rolling her eyes at the filed fingernails and hand fingertips. She then drew her eyes, the blank eyes that were just … there. It'd be a lie to say her eyes were the way into Hermione's soul.

Suddenly the pad of paper was snatched from her hands, and Isabel yipped with pain as the paper cut her finger. Putting the wound to her mouth to stop the bleeding, she turned to look at Hermione, who was still motionless, staring out the window. She then looked at her attacker. And who should stand before her but Draco Malfoy, evil seventh-year Slytherin (jackass) pretty boy, according to her sister. She'd seen enough of his behavior to agree with that assessment.

"Ahh! Malfoy." Isabel said monotonously. The arrogant boy arched an eyebrow in acknowledgement while flipping through the notepad.

"Why the fuck is Granger drawn in blue?" He said with outrage.

"Do you not like blue? I was going to use green, but I couldn't decide between shades -neon green or pine - so I used an alternative. Or maybe I should have –" Isabel rambled purposely to piss Draco holier-than-thou Malfoy off.

"Shut up, squirt. I'm here for that thing next to you," Malfoy reported, and as if on cue, Hermione stood up, rolling her eyes surreptitiously and gracefully walked over to him. Without an expression on his face, he strode purposefully away. Hermione refused to walk behind him like a dog and stepped beside him, as if she knew where she was going. Isabel looked on in shock, not knowing why Malfoy was being so; well, not _nice_, but indifferent all of a sudden. He was definitely not the git that frequently used the nickname 'Mudblood' for the sisters.

Hermione and Draco had a silent agreement. They'd never had a civil conversation, never looked at each other (at least up close) if only to sneer at each other. Infatuation was infatuation, they way the other walked or talked, it was a groove they had for the other. But they had never spoken on the issue, or even knew the other had the same problem. They still loathed each other, because that's how it was supposed to be.

Draco brought her into a compartment apparently identical to the others, but magically enhanced on the inside to fit numerous people – the prefect's compartment. Hermione smiled warmly at everyone inside, noticing Ron's absence. The boy was so forgetful she almost found it entertaining.

But this was nothing special. Hand outs, schedules, patrolling duty, etc. They spoke a few words, discussed their holidays briefly. Once the train stopped at Hogwarts, the small talk would stop, especially for Hermione and Draco, and the subtle second glances would continue.

-

Glasses clinked at the Great Hall buzzed with bliss and excitement. Hermione spoke of a few friends back home, Harry and Ron, whom had joined her at the table after doing God knows what in compartments with their posse of guys, chatted about Quidditch as usual, but Mione's attention was with Ginny, her number-one best friend and one of the most interesting people she knew.

"So, what did you get up to on summer hols?" She asked with genuine curiosity.

"Well … there was this _guy _…" She said loudly. Both girls watched as Ron was distracted from what he was doing to glare at his sister.

"_And_ …?" Mione asked. She grinned at her friend's look. She knew she was making up the story to get her brother going.

"And he was tall and dark and handsome and his name was Winston, and ..." The sixth year girl suppressed a laugh at the look forming on her brother's face before continuing, "Oh, did I neglect to tell you that he's really good in the sack? I should lend him to you sometime."

The look on Ron's face was priceless as he jumped up, his face redder than even his infamous hair. "WHAT?" he roared. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, GIN? I'LL GO FUCK THEM UP!" The girls were laughing so hard their were tears in their eyes as they watched Ron pick his way through the Great Hall, dragging Harry, who was considerably smaller, by the scruff of his robes. He was yelling something about brutal castration, and had drawn attention to himself and the pair of screeching girls. The event didn't go unnoticed; of course, by a certain blond Slytherin had been watching the event from his table. He couldn't make out what they were saying, obviously, but he knew whatever it was, Granger and Mini-Weasel found it hilarious. Picking himself up of the seat, he strutted purposefully over to the Gryffindor table.

Little Granger; Isabel, her name was? Suddenly appeared in front of him before he reached the girls, however. She wasn't small; around five foot four, maybe? There was no way her post-Mudblood sister was anywhere past five foot five. Giving the girl his best scowl and looking down his nose at her, he didn't even try to speak before she said in a loud, bold, yet still monotone voice, "Good morning, my Lord. How may I be of service?" It was already ridiculous, but when she managed a curt bow, he was disgusted. He didn't see her amusement in the situation, and brushed passed her, not seeing her stick out her tongue childishly at his action before taking a seat at the other end of the Gryffindor table. Hermione and Ginny had their backs to the Malfoy standing behind them.

"Granger. Weaselette." He spoke with scorn, hearing the Head girl sigh as she tilted her head back and looked at him from an upside down angle.

"_Hello_, Malfoy." He heard Granger speak. She had an 'I-really-don't-want-to-deal-with-you-today' tone of voice. He obviously wouldn't be able to get a rise out of her today. Considering his substitute, he shrugged and looked at the littlest Weasley.

"From that sick display, I'd say Potter finally confessed his undying love for your brother. Great that he's come out of the closet. Though please, tell them to stay to the side of the hallways so I can pretend not to see him and Weasel," He said, smirking at Ginny, "Snogging when I go out to do my rounds."

His comment may have bothered the fiery haired girl, as she'd just gotten out of a relationship with Harry that was going nowhere. But she merely sighed. "That all you can say, Malfoy? You're losing your touch."

He chuckled, and ignored the comment. "Now, I know you two would love to stare at my gorgeous body for hours on end, but so would others. I have a feeling I'll get more action somewhere else. Adios!" And so he turned and strutted away, returning to his sniggering posse of Slytherins. He didn't notice that Hermione had been sneaking little glances at him while listening to his rude comments.

When Hermione finally found Harry and Ron for their first class of the morning, which was Transfiguration, it was halfway over. They had then gotten into a heated debate about Ginny's earlier comment. She told Ron that Ginny was joking. She told Ron he needed to calm down, and not take everything so seriously. After convincing him he really needed a life, Transfigurations was over and the trio headed off to, _yes_, Potions. They'd be luck if they made it in with a minute to spare.

A/N: Yes, this is a repost. I removed the story, edited it a bit, and decided what the heck; let's have another go at this. I have so much homework right now that I don't know when I'm going to have time to work on this story, but I promise I will try.


	2. Fights

Disclaimer: JKR. She owns it all, except Isabel and Hermione's guitar.

After an excruciating day in her classes, Hermione, minus the other two members of the Golden Trio, headed toward her dorm at a snail's pace. She glared at her shoes as she trudged along. So much for that New-Years-resolution she had made a bit early (during the summer hols, actually). She _had _intended to quit messing with Malfoy, and had promised herself she would not let him affect her … like she said, so much for that. I mean, it wasn't her fault he had made an obscene comment about Ginny's non-existent lover. How he found out about THAT, she had no clue. He might have heard Ronald's outburst, but he was surely out of earshot when the conversation between herself and Gin had gone on at breakfast.

So, naturally, she had bent over toward him and where he was sitting with Blaise Zabini, working on Snape's latest idea, and 'accidentally' knocked over their cauldron. In fury, he'd cried out to the professor and accused her in such a fakely distraught way of sabotaging his work. She would have laughed, if it weren't for the twenty points from Gryffindor and two detentions she'd be serving Friday and Saturday night.

"Picasso." She mumbled the password dully to the portrait. Instead of swinging open like you might expect, it tore itself in two and let her walk through. She realized it would be annoying when anyone came by and wanted in, because she would have to manually come and rip it open to allow the person access to the dorms. In the common room she was not surprised to see the Head boy sitting on one of the very, very oversized couches reading some stupid book. It had to be stupid, she reasoned – he was a Slytherin. The Head Boy, was, unlike you might expect, the attention seeking Blaise Zabini. She didn't expect to get just silence from him…

"Nice stunt you pulled back there, Granger," he said, and she was sure she heard the smirk in his voice. She knew, one-hundred percent, without a doubt, he was talking about the cauldron thing.

"Yeah, well, it backfired." She responded with a bored voice. Blaise just bored her. He didn't even hate her … well, she didn't think he did, 'cause she didn't hate him.

"I still have to re-do our potion." He said, not as amused.

"Yeah, well, your loss is my gain, I guess," Hermione spoke, realizing she took pleasure in seeing the Slytherins suffer. "Wait … did you say _you _had to do it over? What about Malfoy?"

"Draco's just a pretty face. He's good at potions, I guess, but he's even better at getting girls. He'd pick the latter any day."

It was an interesting thing to hear, as Hermione had never actually seen Malfoy with anyone. She didn't really expect him to be a virgin, in fact, unlike what you may expect, Hermione wasn't a virgin either. A little one-night fling with someone one may call a boyfriend made sure of that. Rolling her eyes at her stupid flashback, she climbed the winding staircase that made her dizzy and entered her room. 'Home, sweet home' she thought aloud. She walked into the bathroom, and unlike you might expect, she had her own bathroom that mirrored the one of a five star hotel. She wasted no time jumping into the shower, and using her favorite citrus scented shampoo to wash her caramel curls. They were only shoulder length after the haircut she'd gotten at the end of her sixth year, and the lowlights she had made her look 'cute-as-a-button'. Her father's words, not hers.

Still bored after the shower, and none too eager to get to work on her homework (a very uncharacteristic thing for Gryffindor's favorite bookworm, but even she needed a break), she picked up the acoustic guitar that had been a present for her birthday before her sixth year. With countless hours of practice, even she called herself good. So she began to strum the guitar, and play one of her favorite rock songs.

She didn't get very far, when a boy with white blond hair opened the door to her room and looked at her with those slate grey eyes everyone in the castle was familiar with. Expecting Blaise, she looked up, did a double take, and then stuck out her tongue at her unwanted visitor. The tongue thing was a habit for all Granger women.

"Well, my little Gryffindor pet, looks like you may make for good entertainment after all," He stated. Fighting off the urge to make a certain, offensive, gesture, she spoke in her defense.

"And you make for a good screw up." She stated, as if it were merely common knowledge instead of an insult.

"My name is Draco Malfoy. I'm rich, gorgeous, and pureblood. You posses none of these traits, Granger. I suggest you bite your tongue." He said in defense of himself.

"Go fuck yourself, Malfoy, because I certainly won't," She snapped in frustration.

"Well, I guess we'll have to change that opinion, won't we?" He hissed, turning to leave.

"Good, get your stupid Death Eater ass out of here!" She said cruelly.

That one didn't go over well with Draco. He was a lot of things, but a Death Eater was not one of them. Voldemort was, unfortunately, still parading around on his high horse somewhere to the south of France, however father dearest had been locked up good and tight in a moldy cell down in Azkaban, with no hope of parole. Unless he pulled a grand stunt and escaped with his comrades, Voldemort was pretty much on his lonesome with the war that was scheduled to occur.

"Don't you DARE call me a Death Eater, bitch. If I have ONE good trait, it's that I don't find contentment in sodomizing, crucifying and, or killing meddlesome fuckwits." He snarled, his face determined to get the truthful fact across.

"Goodbye, Malfoy," Hermione repeated, satisfied with his answer. She could at least assume she had one more thing off her mind for a little while. The last thing she heard was the door slam, and wrapping up for the day, her guitar went back on its stand and she went out onto the stone balcony of her room.

If what he said was true, and Malfoy really wasn't intending on becoming a slave to an evil wizard and wreaking havoc on all that was good and true, then maybe, just maybe, there was even the teeniest, tiniest bit of hope that he JUST MIGHT consider, even for a moment, assisting the 'good side' in that pivotal battle against Voldemort himself. Or, maybe not. Now it was time for homework … and sleep.

-

The next confrontation with Malfoy came three days later. Walking into the Great hall with Ginny Thursday morning, Hermione hadn't been paying attention where she was walking, and Malfoy couldn't make use of himself and move out of the way. So, naturally, they made impact, and Malfoy was less than impressed.

"See what I told you, guys?" He sneered, addressing the housemates surrounding him. " I _told _you she couldn't get her hands off me. Should of heard her last night … '_Yes, Draco! I like it like that, Draco!'_" He said, making his best bedroom impression. Hermione was sure she didn't sound like that, but she didn't verbalize her thoughts.

Instead, she rolled her eyes and hit him upside the head, the same way she did Harry or Ron when she was ticked off at one of them. Strolling past him, she called over her shoulder in a sing-song voice, "I'm sure you had fun last night, Drakie-pooh, and I'm sure I'm amazing in the sack, but you just don't quite live up to my standards." She was really taking a risk by making that comment, but it was greeted with a bunch of sniggers from the Gryffindor house, who weren't daft enough to believe she'd actually slept with Malfoy.

Relentless, he had walked up behind her and whispered in her ear, "_Don't _flatter yourself Granger, a million galleons couldn't convince me to touch your filthy ass." He'd actually looked satisfied with himself as he returned to the Slytherin table. Out of all the things she could have done, she chose to pick up the pastry from her table and throw it at his retreating back. It hit him in the shoulder blade, and before he got time to whirl around and give her that glare that was so popular with him, she called after him, "Oh, I love you too, Drakie!"

Yes. This was definitely a change for Hermione Granger.

A/N: Well, what are you waiting for? Review!


	3. Indifference

Disclaimer: Don't we all wish we owned Draco? Well we don't.

"You know, you really might want to clean up your act," Malfoy stated, entering the Library and dropping himself into the chair beside Hermione. She looked up in annoyance, only to see him smirking. Typical.

"Why, whatever do you mean, Malfoy?" She spoke with disdain. Isabel was sitting across from Hermione, studying diligently for an upcoming charms test.

"_Why,_ _whatever _do_you mean, Malfoy?_" Isabel mocked, still upset over Hermione's show in the Great Hall the day before. She hadn't been allowed to sleep because of the teasing that the other girls had made her suffer through, thanks to Hermione's show. It seemed that though most of Gryffindor knew the Head girl was not serious with her comment, the second years did not.

"Stuff it, Brat." Malfoy said through gritted teeth. He wasn't sure if he hated the littlest Granger _more_ than the older counterpart, but he was sure he'd rather burn his boxers off while wearing them than spend a day with either. Well, maybe not, because he wasn't sure he could manage without causing severe damage to his … erm, package, for lack of better terms, if he tried that.

"I mean, Grangy, that unless you want the whole of Hogwarts, minus the Hufflepuffs of course, as they seem oblivious to every type of gossip, even when it bites them in the ass … anyway, unless you want everyone to know _just how easy _you really are, I'd suggest only making comments that imply my almightiness."

"But I'm not easy," She stated, not sure she wanted to know where he was taking this.

"I never said you were, but it's not like they know the difference when it comes from _my_ mouth." He smirked.

"You know what? Malfoy?" She snapped, "You're _not_ anybetter than me. You're below me in school. You don't even have real friends! Do you realize - I've _never _received this much attention in all my Hogwarts years, from a boy, as much as I have from you. Maybe that should tell us something." Standing up, Hermione decided what she was going to do. Smirking back at him, she stuck out her chest and flipped her hair like a movie star, hoping it looked casual. Unfortunately for her, she paid as much attention to him as he did her.

She wondered if he was just as gorgeous under his clothes as he was rumored to be. It wasn't like she'd ever find out, but Malfoy noticed her attentions anyway.

"You know you love me, Granger," He spoke softly, without the usual scorn. She recognized the tone of voice … it was the kind of 'Nice meeting you' tone a voice you used with a stranger.

"No Malfoy, I don't," she said with a phony sad voice. "Quite the opposite, actually."

"Well, the opposite of love is indifference,"

"… Yeah well …"

"Don't you loathe me Granger? Wouldn't you take the opportunity to thrust me into the lake, and the fist of the giant squid, if given the opportunity?" He questioned with a scowl.

"I ran out of hate a long time ago, Malfoy," She said shakily, though trying to contradict herself, before turning her back on him and walking out of the library, leaving Isabel pondering what she'd just witnessed.

"She likes you," She crooned. Malfoy was waiting for her to sing that horrible muggle teasing song about K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

Glaring at her, no words were said as he walked back to the common room in a different direction, hoping to cross paths with his little Gryffindor before arriving.

Hermione was on her way to the Gryffindor common room, instead, however. Striding purposely through the hallways and climbing the staircases with years of practice under her belt, she managed to make it to her old common room without a single scratch.

"Platypus." She said with a roll of her eyes at the odd choice for a password.

Ron and Harry were playing Wizards Chess in the corner of the room. Hermione sighed and silently asked herself if they did anything else.

"Oy, you two!" She hollered, out of character even to herself. When they didn't look up, she tried making herself clearer. "Potter! Weasley! Come comfort your best friend!"

"Oh, hey, 'ermione, didn't see ya there!" Ron hollered back. They ceased their game and strode over to her.

"What have you been up to? Has Malfoy …" Harry began, only to be cut off by an anxious looking Hermione.

"The prat managed to convince me … or convince myself or whatever … I lord, I don't know, why do we hate him again?" She stuttered.

"BECAUSE HE IS A DIRTY, SELF-CENTRED, MOTHERFU **…" **Ron began to shout, but Hermione slapped her hand over his mouth and retorted.

"Ronald Weasley! You had better watch your mouth before it comes detached from your face and runs away from you!" She barked, reminding Ron of his mother.

"So, lemme get this straight, you're being _civil_with Malfoy?" Harry asked unbelievably.

"Oh, hell no, we're no where near that close! We just … we just … oh gosh, I'm supposed to know everything, but I can't figure Malfoy out!" She squeaked in distress.

"Maybe you should just stay here for a while, Mione. I don't trust Malfoy to be ten feet near to you," He suggested genuinely.

"Yeah, Herms, you never know what a creep like that could do," Ron growled.

"Thanks, guys. I'd like to hang around here, at least for a couple hours. Hey, where's Ginny?" She inquired with suspicion.

"She disappeared a few hours ago. She's probably off with Lovegood catching butterflies," Ron criticized.

Hermione scowled. "Hey! That's not a thing you say about your sister!"

Harry leaned over and whispered in her ear. "I believe she's off with some other sixth year Gryffindor. Don't tell Ron." Hermione sensed a hint of jealously in Harry's tone, but didn't press the issue. He had his chance with Ginny, and they both thought it the better thing to do by going their separate ways.

Four games of wizards' chess and countless attempts to get Hermione to try some bizarre magical candy later, it was time for the Head Girl to go back to her own dorms for some well deserved sleep. She was surprised to find Draco in the common room instead of Blaise, though that's who he was probably here to see anyway. Without a second thought, she began in the direction of the spiraling staircase.

"Granger, I don't believe we were done talking," he said, strutting, yes, strutting, over to Hermione.

"Well, I do believe we are," She determined irritably.

"Granger, why don't you hate me?"

"Of course I hate you, you chauvinistic bastard!"

"But you see, it's there that you are wrong. Even your sister sees it, I fascinate you."

"What? Wait … WHAT DID YOU DO TO ISABEL?" She screeched, outraged.

"Don't worry, she's still in one piece. If I wanted to do permanent damage, however, no doubt I could," He said in secondhand thought.

"If you dare hurt a hair on her head, Malfoy, I will castrate you in the most painful way humanly possible," She spat.

"Interesting offer, Granger, but I'll have to pass. You can keep her."

-

Isabel granger walked quickly toward the Head dorms. She had heard from Potter and Weasley that she'd gone back to her rooms after a 'brief' visit, back to that dark haired Slytherin boy who she believed was a friend of Malfoy's. She hoped Hermione wouldn't object to a last minute sleepover, for both of their safety. Malfoy freaked her out.

"Her, squirt, you've set a pace that could easily outrun a cheetah!"

She recognized that voice. Glancing behind her shoulder, she saw the face of Blaise Zabini approaching her. She sighed and slowed down a tad, allowing him to catch up to her. "Screw off, scary Slytherin man." She said with a sarcastic smile. "You don't even know who I am."

"You're Isabel Granger. Of course I know who you, you're good at getting attention." He responded knowingly.

"Whatever." She snapped distractedly. She couldn't quite remember where the Head's room was.

"This way, Izzy," He said, turning down a hallway to his right.

She drew back at the name, but followed. "Hey! Only Hermione calls me that, and even then only sometimes. What gives you the right to …"

"Can it, Izzy, you're lucky I helped you out, you would have ended up in the astronomy tower and out the window if I didn't come to your rescue."

"Oh, get over yourself. Since when are you so special?"

"We're here." He said, cutting her short. What Draco said was true, she was annoying as a banshee. The password was supposed to be undisclosed for everyone who wasn't the Head boy and girl, and Hermione obeyed that rule. Blaise, however, hadn't, and that would be the reason Draco got in.

He stepped through the torn painting with Isabel at his heels and had to duck as a lampshade flew at his head. He wasn't sure who threw it, but he witnessed two very red faced students fighting like they hadn't before.

"What the … holy hell! It looks like a tornado hit! Malfoy, what did you do?" Isabel screeched.

"GET OUT, BOTH OF YOU!"

Hermione roared in complete and utter infuriation. She was greeted only in silence from the two baffled intruders. Neither had any clue what was going on. Maybe a war struck.

(PREVIOUSLY)

"OH, YOU MAKE ME SO CRAZY, MALFOY!"Hermione lamented in frustration.

"I think that's a good thing, Granger. You're way too uptight."

"I don't have wand stuck up my ass, unlike the person standing opposite me!" She said with outrage.

"Granger, Granger, Granger. Do you ever learn? I know you can't resist this." He said, standing proud. The smirk on his face told her he knew about her 'thing' for him. But his attention told her he had a 'thing' for her too. A thing for getting on each others nerves.

"I wouldn't look at you if you were the last boy on earth who could stand upright!" She crossed her arms as if to prove a point.

"Oh really?" He said, stepping toward her.

"Yes. Definitely." She responded boldly, not being intimidated and standing her ground.

"I believe I told you later I'd have to change your mind? Here …" He said, and moving dangerously close to her and grabbing her arm. With a yank, he'd pulled her toward him, and roughly planted his lips on Hermione's without welcome.

In a second, she had pulled back. "WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, YOU STUPID PRICK? I … I …" She said, bewildered and angry. She quickly lashed out at him, kicking him in the shin and pounding her fists into his stomach, enough to knock the wind out of him.

"Arrgh! Granger, what the fuck? Are you trying to kill me?" He moaned.

"Yes actually, I should! I should kill you and make it look like suicide!"

And then the fist hex flew.

(PRESENT)

Isabel lunged at Hermione and body checked her right on. "Oomph!" Was all that was heard as the girl yelled at her.

"What on EARTH were you doing, you stupid, stupid girl? Getting yourself killed? Why do you have to be so intrigued by _it_?" She interrogated, referring to Malfoy.

Blaise had already tugged Draco out of the room, and they were arguing in the hallway.

Smoke was probably pouring from both Hermione's and Draco's ears, both for the same reason. They were trapped inside their own worlds, each chasing the other and never getting what they wanted, because they were too proud to admit it. Makes you laugh, doesn't it?

A/N: An update for you! I live off reviews, and they influence where the story goes greatly, so please, leave a comment!


	4. Plans

Disclaimer: As much as I wish I was rich and lived in London, that'd be JK Rowling, and she is most definitely not me.

She liked it. God forbid, but she, Hermione Granger, had liked when Draco Malfoy kissed her. Oh, it didn't mean she liked _him_ or anything like that. You see, like and lust are two completely different things. So, why hadn't she just let him kiss her? After a long debate, she decided it was her pride. She couldn't let him be the one to go for her, she had to be assertive. She had to be the predator, him the prey. She was used to it – she may be a self proclaimed bookworm, but she had been the boss of Harry and Ron for a little over six years now, and she wasn't going to change her ways now.

So she came up with a strategy. She would play hard to get – every comment he made to her would go unnoticed. Of course, she'd have to pick the perfect opportunity, plan every move, every word she said in his presence. It wasn't like her to plan on winning a man's affection, and Draco definitely was not worth it. Hermione decided she must really be turning over a new leaf. There was one person she could turn to for advice, however … Ginny.

"So you're telling me you want _him _begging for _you?_" Ginny asked incredulously, staring at her friend with her mouth hanging wide open. They were sitting on her bed in the sixth year Gryffindor dorms.

"Exactly. Close your mouth, Gin, before you catch flies," Hermione snapped.

"Well, why not slip him a love potion? That'll have his attention enough for you to screw him over …" Ginny shut up when she saw the look her friend was giving her.

Hermione mumbled something inaudible, the distraught look still on her face. "What's that, Mione? I can't hear …"

"I don't want to mess with him. I want him to be with me." She mumbled, more clearly this time.

"OH!" Ginny exclaimed, an even more shocked look on her face. Her lips twitched for a moment, like she was trying to decide what to say. "Oh my god! You like Draco Malfoy!"

"What? Are you crazy? No, no, I like the idea of him … I just want to test him out …" She said, not even sure she was convincing herself.

"Yeah, okay, sure." She said, smirking now, and earning a glare from Hermione.

"Gin, you know what you're doing. How am I gonna get Draco to abandon his pride and come after me?" She asked.

"Well, you said he kissed you, right?"

"Yeah …"

"Well, looks like he's already chasing you."

"No. He was trying to get me to chase him. He thinks that I think that I want him."

"Well, do you?"

"No … maybe … yeah, maybe a little. But only a little, Gin. It's not like I'm a virgin, I have needs too, you know."

Ginny smirked at this. "So basically, he's trying to get you to realize you want to be with him, but you don't want to admit it and are trying to get him to admit he wants to be with you?"

"Whoa, slow down, Gin," Hermione said, her head spinning. "I've got to get him to want me, first. He wants to screw me over."

"Are you sure about that?"

-

"I don't know, Blaise," Draco growled, sitting in the Slytherin dorms. Since it was Saturday afternoon, no one was there. He was in the midst of discussing Granger with his best friend. For some reason, she was resisting him. He wasn't used to that at all. Girls should want to be with him, no?

So, he had decided on a plan. He would get the little Gryffindor to want him so bad it hurt … but he'd push her away. He'd keep her at arm's length until she was practically begging, then he'd take her for his own. Unfortunately, he had run into a dilemma. There was no way he'd get her if he just planted his lips on hers randomly in the hallway – nope, that definitely put her off. So he needed Blaise's ideas. Blaise was the true romantic of the two, no mater how good he was at getting girls.

"Why don't you try talking to her?" The look Blaise received after that was expected, but if it had been anyone else that Draco had given the look to, the probably would have been offended. Blaise just rolled his eyes. "Yes, Draco, talking. Something that doesn't involve snogging or shagging."

"What the Hell do I talk to Granger about?" He said, eyebrows knitted together.

"How should I know?" Blaise asked. He made a mental note to pay more attention to Granger in their dorm. Whatever she did could be used as a subject for conversation. "You already know she can play guitar. Talk to her about that."

"Guitar? Is that what that weird thing with the handle and strings was?" He questioned.

"Once again, yes, Draco."

"Hmm. Tell me again why I have to talk to her?"

"_Because_, you jackass, you won't hold her attention for more than three hours even if she does decide to be with you unless you can hold up a conversation." He said as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

"But I don't need her to be with me, I just want to take her for a test run."

"Then how come you're paying so much attention to her? I'm sure you could charm your way into her pants if you really tried. It's obvious she has the hots for you."

"Innocent little Hermione? I wish, Blaise."

"Do you really think a sex kitten such as she is innocent?" Blaise inquired with a smirk.

"Don't call her that. And yes."

"Whoa, defensive, aren't we? See what I mean? You _are_ into her. I'm sure another guy couldn't so much as touch her without you getting all jealous."

"Oh, bullshit, Blaise. She can do whoever she wants. I really don't care."

"Are you sure about that?"

A/N: So sorry, short chapter. But review anyway.


	5. Surprises

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry potter. I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own Harry Potter.

Sunday afternoon was the first Quidditch practice for Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Hermione did not have much to do seeing as her best friends were all occupied. As much as she loved to see her friends doing what they loved, she wished that the sport allowed them more time on the ground.

Instead of sitting in the stands and watching them, as she knew that would bore her out of her mind, she spent the final day of her weekend strolling the grounds on the edge of the Forbidden Forest trying to clear her mind.

She wished she didn't think of Malfoy as often as she did, but alas, not all wishes can come true. Her plan was coming together with many loose ends, and she hadn't seen Malfoy enough in the past few days to start observing his weaknesses. Aside from Pansy, whom he seemed quite attached to, he was pretty secluded from the outside world.

Hermione wasn't a fan of one night stands. An encounter in the summer with a boy had pretty much made her thoughts on sex and relationships well defined, unfavorably. She didn't really see men as loving creatures, but as horny beasts.

So she wouldn't give into him. She would not sleep with him, under no circumstances; only hold a relationship until he begged. She would have him under her control, like a dog on a leash. And she had managed to convince herself she could accomplish this.

And oh, what a coincidence, Malfoy strode up beside her at that moment. Thank God she had not been thinking out loud or it would have meant the end of the world to her. She sighed dramatically and glared at him.

"_What_?" She snapped in frustration. He only smirked in return. "Stop_ smirking _at me!" She whined like a little child.

"You are just too becoming when you are angry, Granger. Though not very graceful." He said with another amused smirk, and slipped a hand around her waist.

She squirmed out of him grasp and shot him a look that could kill. "Oh, give it up, Malfoy, I'm not stupid. You just contradicted yourself!" Hermione growled, her frustration growing.

Malfoy shrugged. "You _know _you love it, Granger." He said surely, before he quickened his pace and walked away from her. Hermione only stood there, flabbergasted. Shoving her hands onto her pockets, she began to walk away.

Scowling, she trod back up to the castle, fiddling with something in her pocket. She was so sick of Malfoy … doing_ that_! She didn't even have a name for it, except being an arrogant ass!

Biting the inside of her cheek, once again she contemplated her plan. It was failing! She just allowed him to get to her! Oh, she could not stand for this. She quickened her pace toward the Gryffindor common room. It was time for a heart to heart with her young sister.

She was still twirling the piece of paper in her pocket when she reached the Fat Lady's portrait. Realizing it hadn't been there earlier; she pulled it out and inspected the scribbled writing.

'_Meet me in the third floor corridor 12:00pm. –DM'_

He couldn't be serious! With an angry huff, she snapped the password to the portrait and climbed into the Common Room.

Isabel was in her own world when Hermione entered her room. Humming to herself, she was smirking at something only she understood. You see, earlier on she had run into Blaise Zabini in the corridors. He had been looking for Draco, and she had been looking for Hermione. After Blaise made a comment about Draco not being around much lately, she added a few behavior changes that seemed uncharacteristic to Hermione – and they quickly realized the changes had been made to adapt to each other.

So, that launched a new conversation, discussing just why the two were being so attentive to each other. When Isabel suggested they liked each other, Blaise laughed it off, but Isabel persisted. The two talked for about half an hour in the middle of the hallway, with several portraits looking on, before they realized they had places to be. Isabel had blushed when she realized she had been holding him up, and for once in her life she had felt foolish and young. Normally being a very bold person, she had run back to her room and collapsed on her bed, confused. Thoughts of Blaise had only followed her back there, and this was the state Hermione found her in.

"Who is it?" Hermione sighed in frustration. She could instantly recognize the signs – her little sister was way into one of her classmates.

"I beg your pardon?" Isabel said, bolting up on her bed. She kicked her school shoes off because she had left them on earlier and quirked an eyebrow at her sister.

"Who are you so caught up with?" Hermione prodded. She was used to Isabel being quite direct with boys, no matter what feelings she had for them.

"Ugh, no one! Why are you so fascinated with love lately?" Isabel snapped, a blush creeping across her face. Damn her fair complexion.

"I have to protect my little sister, remember?" Hermione reminded her of what her mother said, smiling softly. Her mother was terrified of the war that could engulf the wizarding world at any moment. Even though the two sisters had told her The Evil Dark Lord Voldemort was suffering memory loss and had about a mere dozen Death Eaters at his service, she did not relent.

Isabel sighed dramatically. "What do you want?" She prodded with a smirk.

"Draco fucking Malfoy is what I want." She said, tossing herself face first into the pillows of Isabel's bed.

"Oh!" Isabel explained, her mouth forming a giant 'O'.

"How can you be so direct with boys?" she asked her little sister with a wail.

"Umm … I just am?"

"But how? I need to learn from you! I gotta resist Draco … especially tonight!"

Wordlessly, Isabel pulled a bag of cosmetics from her side table. Her mom did not let her wear make-up, deciding she was too young, so she had gone and bought the essentials from a drug store in muggle London without her mum knowing.

And then she turned to Hermione and worked her magic.

-

Fifteen minutes before curfew, and one and a quarter hours before he was hoping to meet Granger in the forbidden hallway, Draco Malfoy was in his common room with Pansy curled up at his side and Blaise chatting away with Crabbe and Goyle, who were both eagerly lapping up every bit of information he gave them.

He chuckled at his situation. It was not like he didn't like Pansy, in fact, he found her quite enjoyable company, but he just wasn't into her romantically. She wasn't as pretty as Granger, but she presented herself nicely and she had confidence unlike any other girl he had ever met. She wasn't skinny, but she had curves, and the pug nose people had teased her about years ago actually suited her face in his point of view.

Draco had witnessed Little Granger talking with Blaise, and the fact that he had carried out a conversation with someone so young bothered him. She was immature, brainless and annoying, and he was positive she was spying for her older sister.

He had yet to confront him about it, and he knew when he did Blaise would only shrug him off and continue doing whatever he had originally be doing. Draco knew that sometimes he took Blaise for granted. He was the only other male Slytherin Draco could really hold up a conversation with. Their grades were above average, making them the top in scoring for the Slytherins, but Blaise was an attention seeker, and Draco was an attention receiver. The difference between the two was like night and day.

As the night wound down, Draco and Hermione both made there way through the hallways, intent on getting to the third floor corridor. The passed each other a couple of times on the staircases, but they were too busty trying to get off on the right place to notice each other. Hermione made it to the destination first, Draco following a few minutes later.

"Make it quick, Malfoy." Hermione snapped, tiredly. She covered a yawn with her hand and wiped her sleepy eyes awake.

"Well, you're rather impatient, Granger." Malfoy snarled in the dark.

"Yes, well, I'd like to get back to bed. So tell me why I'm here and don't try to kiss me again."

"Very well. Let's play a game."

"Malfoy, I said I don't …"

"Ten questions." This shut her up and she looked at him, at least as much as he could in the dark. "Until I can find out why you are resisting me so well."

She growled but didn't protest.

"One, what is your relationship with Pothead and the Weasel?"

"They're my friends, Draco; don't even go down that road." She spat.

"Okay, two, why did you call me Draco just then?"

Oh, shit. She thought. I did, too. I'm slipping. "Slip of the tongue."

"Well then, you must see something in me, no?" He hinted.

She saw no point in lying. "You're attractive, Draco, and you're taboo. You're a guy; you should know the meaning of wanting what you can't have."

"Then how come you rejected me that time in your common room?"

"Because I'm not desperate."

Draco frowned. Was she saying he _was?_

"Just how many boyfriends have you had in the past? Muggle men, maybe?"

He was not expecting the answer he got. Hermione started counting on her fingers. He was surpised when she had to use two hands. "Hmm … (mumble mumble) … umm, about seven since I was fourteen, after Krum."

"What did you do with them?"

"Not much, for the most part … except for one time …"

"What did you do that time?" Draco pressed, annoyed that she was stalling.

"We went to parties, did some things my parents wouldn't like. I spent some time in a muggle school in America … things are much more raunchy there."

"What kind of things?"

"Drinking…" She did not sound regretful. "Smoking … sometimes illegal stuff, too. Only once, though …" She trailed off, wiping memories from her head.

"Wow, who got you to do that?"

"My last boyfriend. He was a college freshman … big mistake."

"Why? And why aren't you with him any more?"

"College boys have short attention spans, I guess. He was here from America," she said, as if that explained it all. "I'm not with him … because I made the mistake of sleeping with him. He said … he would break up with me if I didn't. After that night, I didn't want to do it anymore. He got angry, and broke it off anyway." She said with her breath shaking. Why oh why was she telling this all to Draco Malfoy? Harry and Ron didn't even know about this …

"Hey." Draco said to get her attention. She could see him now that her yes were well adjusted to the darkness. "You're could be turned inside out and backwards, but you'd get through it. Extraordinary. Now, let's get out of here, because it is all too normal for you to get caught."

"Yes, lets." And they walked back together.

A/N: Please review, no matter what you say and even if you've never commented before, I love response!


	6. Feelings

Disclaimer: This doesn't belong to me; I'm not making any money off of it, etc …

A/N: Thank you for your reviews, everyone. They _really _do help. And I know my grammar can be pretty bad at times … sorry. And to the person who left the anonymous review without a name: Oh my God, I love you. Please, leave more reviews like that. They're great motivation – seriously.

Hermione did not feel like getting up the next morning in the very least. She was rudely awoken by a grouchy looking Blaise Zabini. Apparently, muffled complaints of a stomach ache wouldn't get her out of a day at school – and facing Malfoy. Draco. No, definitely Malfoy. Zabini refused the story, telling her she could easily make it to Pomfrey and then the Great Hall before classes started. She figured he knew where she had been last night - or at least assumed after she had come in especially late. She felt compelled to roam the castle after Draco left for the dungeons.

Maybe she was feeling a bit nostalgic, but whatever the reason, she found herself returning to the days she spent in muggle America. She had been just shy of 12 when she left, and a few months away from 11 when she arrived. She had returned every summer except for last. Living with her 22 year old cousin had been fun, but difficult. She couldn't forget the people she met – good and bad, they were a part of her. One promise she had made herself, however, was she wouldn't go back for them. Now, however, she wished things could be as simple as they were in America. There, everyone seemed to tell you what they wanted. They never made you guess. Here, Hermione found she had to make guesses about _herself_.

And so, if just so she could find herself out, she got out of bed, and put on the simple Hogwarts uniform. She traced the outline of the Gryffindor crest, if only to remind herself that she was here with no regrets. She tied her hair back in a severe bun, not feeling like applying the insane amount of muggle and wizard hair products she usually had to use to tame her hair. They didn't do as good a job as Sleekeasy's Hair Potion, but she no longer got confused for a mop, which was a good thing.

She stopped by the Great Hall very briefly, much to Harry and Ron's protest, and Isabel and Ginny's curiosity. Her first class was Arithmancy, but even her favorite subject couldn't get her mind off the previous night. It was rather unfortunate that they were assigned a hefty amount of homework on the subject they had discussed in class. Hermione ducked out of the class without bothering to get any clarification on the essay she would have to write later. The faster she could get through the day, the faster she could retire to her rooms for the night.

Unfortunately, the following class was potions, and unfortunately, it was still shared with the Slytherins. If Hermione was glad that she got paired with Harry, she didn't show it. Instead, she spent the first chunk of class time shooting subtle glances in Malfoy and Zabini's direction, watching them brew their potion with decent care and, even once, wondering why they were lucky enough to be partners more often then not, before realizing that it was merely another show of favoritism from the Head of House. When Malfoy caught her eye around the twentieth time she looked at him, she paid a slight bit more attention to the potion she was supposed to be brewing, noting that although it was supposed to be brewing a deep crimson, the mixture before her was still blood red.

"Perhaps you should spend less time dreaming that you could be as good at potions as Mr.'s Malfoy and Zabini, and try doing something about it, Miss Granger?" Came the drawling voice of Professor Snape. Hermione's head snapped up, wide eyes the Professor before her, as the whole class of Slytherins and some Gryffindors sniggered at her misfortune. Instead of having the decency to blush, Hermione merely smirked right back at her Professor.

"Yes, I suppose I'll have to do that. But they're not hard on the eyes, are they, Professor? I think I'd rather learn from them." The startled cry that Harry emitted alerted her to his presence for the first time, and she grinned apologetically at him. "Sorry, Harry."

The rest of the class proceeded without a hitch, and the one time she caught Malfoy's eye, he smirked at her in a way she knew wasn't meant to infuriate, but encourage her. On the way out of the classroom, behind the mob of people heading to the Great Hall for lunch, she saw Blaise wink at her in what she hoped was a completely friendly way, and, satisfied, she headed to the library to take out any book she could find on Bowtruckles, the tree-dwelling creatures she would be writing a report on for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

As luck would have it, she wasn't the only one who was at the library at the time. Already there was Draco Malfoy, holding a couple thick textbooks. He was either unaware of her presence, or ignoring her completely – Hermione didn't care; she merely ducked away, avoiding any confrontation. After a few minutes of searching, she abandoned the shelf she was at. Turning the corner, she expecting to see another stack of books, but was confronted with Malfoy. This time, he noticed her, and spoke first.

"Granger, do you -" He began, definitely mistaken if he thought conversation would be well received.

"I … uh … you … book … uhm … class, I gotta … go … yeah. Yeah." Was all that the intelligent, put-together Hermione Granger could come up with. Looking at her strangely, Draco held a book out to her. She took a step back, looking at him blankly, and she choked out a further, "You gotta go … leave." She regretted it immediately when his face gained that hard, cold expression, and he set the book down on the shelf beside her.

"Very well, then, Granger." He said emotionlessly. He brushed passed, her, and though she wanted desperately to say something to keep him here, she was afraid of that desperation showing, and she kept her mouth shut. Once he had gone, his footsteps died away, she picked out the textbook robotically, looked at the title, _Forest Inhabitants That Aren't Human_, and continued the desk where Madam Pince was sitting. Not looking forward to her next class, Hermione rushed up to the head common room, deposited the book in her trunk, and beat her pillow a few times before composing herself and heading down the staircases.

Detached and more than a little depressed, she continued through her daily classes. By dinnertime, however, Hermione had managed to convince herself that Malfoy was hardly anything to be upset about. She was catching up with Ginny and Isabel, who surprisingly always had more eventful days than her, when Harry and Ron wrenched her from her seat and dragged her down the Great Hall.

"Harry! Ron! What do you think you're doing?" She shrieked. The response she got only confused her more.

"We're learning something, Mione." Ron grunted, and they were out of the doors and into the Entrance Hall.

"Well, then, what do you want to know?" She asked angrily. She was enjoying her mashed potatoes, and imagined that she looked less than eloquent being grabbed from the table with her mouth full.

"We want to know what you have been doing with Malfoy," Harry stated before Ron could say something accusatory, or merely stupid. Hermione took it the wrong way, anyway.

"Oh, honestly! You two are ridiculous. That only thing I think of when you mention the git is son-of-a-Death Eater!" She spat, hoping she sounded believable.

"Oh really? What were you sugggesting in Potions today, then? Huh? Because it didn't sound academic!" Ron accused, as per usual.

"What was I supposed to say?"

"Not that!" Ron was red-faced by now.

"Give it a rest!" It was a good thing Harry interrupted when he did, because neither Ron nor Hermione looked like they could take much more of this. Glaring at the two of them, Harry waited a moment before he directed his question to Hermione.

"Hermione, is there anything going on with you and Draco? Me and Ron have the right to know, you know."

"You do not! My business is my own -" Hermione began, still upset over the little spat with Ron.

"Hermione! Just tell us!" Ron practically yelled. Hermione had to use all her self control not to hex the two of them, but in interest for all of their sanity, she lied.

"No. Absolutely nothing. You know I would tell you if there was!" She forced a grin on to her face just so she could make sure they believed her.

"Thanks, Hermione." Harry said, looking at Ron significantly.

"Yeah. Great, great, Mione." Ron followed.

-

After dinner, Draco wasn't having such and easy time with his friends. He was sitting in the Slytherin common room, and it wasn't Blaise who was bugging him. Blaise he could handle, but Pansy wasn't leaving him alone. Any other day, Draco would have appreciated her attentions. Today, however, he misinterpreted them.

"Get to the point, Parkinson!" He barked at her.

"Merlin, Drake, what's got your knickers in a twist?" She asked innocently enough.

"You". His answer was simple and to the point. Draco wasn't the type to say something in three words when it could be said in two. Except with Hermione. Then, he could talk for hours. He caught himself again. This is Granger he was thinking about, after all.

"Oh, Draco, don't lie to me. You're not the only Slytherin guy who's ever had the hots for a girl, you know." She drawled, smirking.

"What're you talking about, Pans?" He said, visibly perking up. Did she know about Hermione? "Who goes for Gryffindors?"

"HA!" Pansy bellowed. "I never said anything about Gryffindors. You did! So, spill." Pansy said, grinning devilishly. "If it's not me, than at least it's someone. Now I know you have emotions!"

"Pansy, leave it. You're worse than Blaise." He regretted saying it as soon as it left his lips.

"Oooh, Blaise knows, does he? I doubt I'll have trouble getting_ him_ to spill! Not only is he just as great a friend to me as he is to you, but I've got something to blackmail him with!" She said, temping him. If she knew Draco as well as she thought she did, he'd want to know everything she did about his best friend.

"What? What's Zabini up to?" He said, now sitting straight up. He was afraid this information would have to be bargained for and that Blaise wouldn't like it one bit, but he was a Slytherin after all.

"The Gryffindors name, Draco?" Pansy prompted, glaring at a third year who glanced her way, after hearing the title 'Gryffindor' spoken in it's rival's house.

"Granger." He said, almost silently. "Now, tell me about Blaise?" He said, inclining his head toward hers. Pansy, not backing out of the silent deal, leant forward and whispered into his ear. Draco's eyes shot wide. He felt ridiculous for making a deal out of Hermione.

"Pothead?" He asked, not sure if he heard right. Pansy merely nodded.

-

Hermione was surprised, to say the least, when pansy Parkinson was the one she encountered in the Head rooms the next morning. Pansy tried to hide a smirk when she saw the girl, instead picking up conversation about Blaise when she spotted her.

"He's pissed at me," She said simply, looking to Blaise's bedroom door. "I said something I shouldn't have about him. It's not _really _a big deal, but that's how Blaise is." She said.

Hermione nodded, not quite sure what she was talking about. Why was this Slytherin girl being friendly toward her? "Er …" She began, not quite sure if she was supposed to answer.

"Draco, however, keeps his cool no matter the situation." She continued, quirking her eyebrow. "Don't you agree?"

"Er …" Hermione began again," I wouldn't know … I don't really … know Draco well." She continued, only then realizing she should've acted a great deal more defensive. Maybe the Slytherin wouldn't notice.

"Not well? Forgive me if I don't believe you." Pansy said, not trying very hard to fight back a grin.

"Huh? What are you saying?" Hermione said, eyes narrowing. Did Pansy know something she didn't?

"Fine, fine, alright, I'll cut to the chase." Hermione didn't like the way she was openly grinning at her. "Draco likes you. Its all really very second year, but I'm just stating the facts." Hermione knew anything she said would get back to Draco in the end, but that didn't stop her.

"So what do I do?"

A/N: I do need a beta. Any takers?


	7. Accusations

Disclaimer: Except for the Morsus plant, this isn't mine.

Pansy told her she was to 'show Draco she was interested'. Hermione, either being frustrated, over tired, or both, figured the only way to do that was to paint the words in bold lettering across her forehead. In the dreadfully unproductive hour she spent with Pansy, Hermione had felt more and more like this was a set-up, and that Draco had put Pansy up to this in a desperate attempt to get her attention. Unfortunately, Pansy was disinclined to let her go, continuing on with 'helpful' information that may have worked if Hermione wasn't a boring know-it-all, but instead, a foreign, exotic goddess often referenced to in romance novels. Seeing as this was not so, Hermione kept her mouth and ears shut until she checked the clock and realized she had missed History of Magic.

"Pansy, honestly, you've been at it an hour. I've got to get to class!" she cried in dismay, the good student in her reawakening.

"But Granger, you haven't even heard the best part yet!" Pansy whined, indignantly.

"Fine, fine. You can tell me – later." She reasoned. "I've made a habit of missing classes lately … I don't want people to think something is up. Oh, God, I'm going to be late as it is!" She wailed, gathering up her books which had been abandoned the night before. If this was going to be her morning routine from now on, she had better be getting up earlier. She realized she hadn't showered or been to the Great Hall for breakfast. Oh, well. No one cared if she was presentable or not, did they?

Hermione, ever so desperate to please her teachers, went flying into Herbology just as the lesson had begun. Anyone else would have been cautious about entering Greenhouse 3 unarmed, but Hermione was too worried about receiving detention or loosing house points to take any precautions. Professor Sprout frowned at her, and Hermione winced, expecting a reprimand, but her teacher hesitated; they smiled.

"Ah, Hermione! I was just talking about you! I expected you were ill when you didn't show up! Could you come help me with a demonstration? Yes, yes, come right up here …"

They plant that was on display in front of Hermione was unlike the rest of the plants in the greenhouse in that it was not ugly, shrieking, or deadly poisonous. This made Hermione even more nervous – if she couldn't immediately tell what kind of unpleasant traits it possessed just by looking at it, she couldn't imagine what kind of murderous properties it held within. It was green, not an unusual colour for a plant, and had long, wide, flat spikes protruding in a cluster from one side. It looked vaguely like a stiff husk of corn. Once Hermione was over her panic, she realized that this plant had been referenced to numerous times in her copy of _Flesh-Eating Trees of the World_.

Morsus Plant. Instantly, Hermione began to panic again. Whatever she had to do, it was going to hurt. The plant wasn't fully mature, as it was only two foot tall, but when she considered the size of a wasp compared to the pain inflicted with a sting, the size didn't comfort her at all.

"Right, right, no need to worry – I'm sure you've read about this plant before, all of you! The Morsus Plant, though it is technically not a tree, is listed on page 127 of your _Flesh Eating Trees of the World _textbook. Does that ring any bells?" Sprout looked at Neville hopefully, and she was certain by the way he was staring at the plant that he knew exactly what it was. "The Morsus is used, primarily, as a sedative. Miss Granger, if you'd be so kind as to hold out your hand …"

Hermione closed her eyes, but complied. It was written quite clearly in her textbook that on top of the pain the needle would cause when it pierced her flesh, the plant's essence was usually too strong for a human without being distilled, and could potentially knock her unconscious – if only for a brief period of time. Hermione looked behind her to make sure nothing would be in her way if she fell over suddenly. Taking a deep breath, she felt the needle penetrate the skin of her hand.

-

Hermione woke up to see Blaise looking down on her, frowning, and Draco looking down on her, smirking. She immediately recalled the earlier Herbology lesson, and squeezing her eyes shut, she mumbled a request for the time.

"Lunch is almost over," Blaise replied cheerily. "I brought you this," And he produced a typical sandwich from his robes.

"Gonna curse Sprout …" Hermione mumbled under her breath, sitting up and blinking in the light. "What was she thinking? She knew what the plant could do to a person!"

"She knew what it could do to a person who was deprived of sleep, food, and was considerably stressed, yes," Draco began, speaking for the first time. "But you're Head girl. You're supposed to be 100 all the time! Of course she didn't think the Morsus would affect you."

She glared over at the still smirking Draco, and, mouth full of bread, asked, "What are _you_ doing here?"

Draco grinned evilly. "Blaise wasn't at lunch. Came here to look for him. Found him bent over you, all worried about your 'well being'. When I asked what the Hell had happened, he said something had gone wrong in your Herbology class, and all you could do was sleep it off. I thought I'd wait so I could rub it in your face."

Hermione looked at him blankly. Suddenly, she grinned evilly back. "Nah, you just wanted to see my pretty face. And maybe check and see if anything Parkinson said had registered," She said, quirking her eyebrow. She _so_ had him.

"I beg your pardon?" He asked, looking completely lost.

"You know damn well," She urged. "You sent her down here to talk to me, to convince me to flirt back with you," Hermione was cheering herself on in her head by now. She was learning to be to the point – just like Isabel. Blaise was looking between the two now, completely baffled at the turn of events.

Draco's eyes shot wide. "Parkinson …" He growled, before turning back to Hermione. "I don't know what gave you that idea, Granger. I have no control over what Pansy does. I say you're just delusional. If I wanted to get into your pants, I would do it by myself." He turned on his heel and strode out of the room in a very characteristic, I'm-a-Malfoy, I'm-better-than-you way.

"Well, you two definitely have a healthy relationship," Blaise commented sarcastically. He sighed. "Ignore what Draco said. You caught him off guard. Trust me, Draco didn't send Pansy. She was there for me. We had had a fight – she told a secret of mine, and she promised she wouldn't. It sounds very juvenile, but …" He sighed again.

"Oh! Well, how embarrassing," She said, blushing bright red, not believing she had just accused Draco Malfoy of pursuing her. "Well … what did Parkinson tell?" She said out of curiosity. Blaise regarded her for a moment. Hermione didn't expect him to say anything, but he leaned over and whispered in her ear. There was no one else in the room, so she found this strange. But then he told her what Pansy had let slip, and Hermione's jaw dropped.

-

Draco found Pansy in the Slytherin girls' dorms. He had to send someone in to get her, because just like the Gryffindor dormitories, they were charmed to disallow allow any members of the opposite sex entry. When Pansy emerged, she smirked. Had Hermione followed her advice and just jumped Draco?

"Parkinson. Out here, now." Pansy frowned at the aggressiveness in Draco's voice. She followed him out of the common room and into a corner of the dungeons.

"Did you tell Hermione I sent you to tell her how to flirt with me?" He said quickly. Pansy stared up at him. Was he for real?

"Um, no. I went to see Blaise. He's giving me the silent treatment for telling you … you know …" she suggested. "I ran into Granger. That girl needs serious help in the boy department. I didn't tell her you _sent_ me."

"So that was her own conclusion?" Draco questioned.

"Must have been," Pansy replied, still uneasy with Draco's behavior. Was that all he wanted?

"Oh. I see." He looked down at Pansy, his usual smirk back in place. "Thanks. Thanks … you know, for talking to her."

"Um, sure … ?" Pansy replied. Draco was already striding down the hallway.

-

When Isabel found Hermione later on in the day, the older girl was returning to her dorms from her afternoon classes. Feeling better after the incident in Herbology, she had gone on to finish the school day, not wanting to miss any more than she already had. Isabel, having heard what happened in Greenhouse 3, flopped down next to Hermione and began a one-sided discussion about it.

"Do you think they'll let us into Greenhouse 3? I mean, I know they don't usually let second years, but you went there to work with the mandrakes in your second year, right? Oh, I heard what happened today. Did it hurt? I'm sure professor Sprout didn't _mean_ to knock you unconscious …" She snickered.

"After today? I wouldn't get your hopes up for a trip into that building." Hermione sighed.

Isabel frowned. "Well Blaise said - "

"When were you talking to Blaise?" Hermione snapped.

"Oh a few times. He's quite nice actually …" She trailed off, a grin on her face. "Anyway, yes, he said that the only reason the Morsus affected you was because you weren't that healthy. So, the teachers could just make sure we were all in our rooms after curfew and present at meals and then we could go to the greenhouse," Isabel joked, giving up hope of seeing the plant that had defeated her sister single handedly anytime soon.

But Hermione hadn't been paying much attention to her sister's logic. "You've been seeing a bit of Blaise Zabini, huh?" She said, looking at her sister critically.

"Oh, lighten up, Hermione! So I have a crush on an older boy. It's not like …" Isabel stopped herself before she got any farther. "Right. You weren't … supposed … to know that …" She trailed off.

"Oh, God, Isabel!" Hermione exclaimed. Then she sighed. "Look, I know you're smarter than that. Blaise is too old for you … or rather, you're too young for him. Besides, he …" She shook her head and didn't continue.

"'_Besides, he' _what?" Isabel questioned.

"Nothing, Izzy, nothing at all."


	8. Comfort

Disclaimer: You've heard it all before. I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: And sorry for any mistakes …

Double potions. The seventh-year Slytherins were walking briskly down to the dungeons after their last class, and Draco pulled Blaise aside in the crowd.

"Have you seen Her- I mean Granger anywhere?" He hissed in his friend's ear.

"No." Blaise regarded Draco carefully. "Did you lose her?"

"You idiot, she hasn't been in the Great Hall for meals and I didn't see her with the Gryffindors when we passed them earlier,"

Blaise sighed. "You know the password."

-

Draco didn't get halfway to the Head dorms before he ran into Hermione dashing through the hallway, book bag slung over her shoulder. She ducked when he held out his hand to prevent her from passing him, and continued down the hallway, mumbling something about having no time for this and she was late for class. A few _hours _late, Draco though to himself. Still, he found himself running after her.

They entered the potions classroom sweaty and out of breath. Who knew it was such a distance? Draco was sure they had played a game of tag on the way here – Draco being 'It' the whole time. Damn, she was fast.

"Track team … at muggle school," She muttered when he walked past the table she had placed her books at.

"Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger, we are at last blessed with your presence," Snape said, sounding bored. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

Hermione didn't even bother protesting. They _had _been playing tag. Juvenile, she knew, but it took her mind off what day it was. Draco was at the opposite side of the classroom, but he craned his neck around to see her. She blushed and looked away. Draco grinned. She _does_ like me, he congratulated himself. But where was she all this time? It wasn't like Hermione to miss class for no reason. If she was feeling sick, she could always go to Pomfrey. He frowned. Something had to be up.

-

To say that death is a hard thing to face would be a sorry understatement. People worry about what happens after they die; they worry about having their souls saved. In the muggle world, they worry about dangers in the home and gun violence. They carefully read the warnings on children's medicine. In the wizarding world, they fear Voldemort, werewolves, trolls and other unpleasant creatures. Hermione had seen death in its worst form: when it struck someone she loved.

Jay and Hayley were buried on the opposite sides of London, England, though they had died in the same car crash. Hermione thought it was the kind of death that killed the characters of a soap opera. Sure, there were public service announcements on the television all the time about drunk driving, but it wasn't as if she would ever have to worry about the subject, right?

She hated the news coverage on the accident. The man who had been arrested was a minor – around 17, she heard. His name, initially, wasn't released. Hermione was grateful for the tabloid reporters who gave an identity to the man who killed her best friends. She had searched relentlessly, and had gotten what she'd asked for. She could see his face clearly in her head: short, dark hair, almost black, and dark blue eyes. He looked like any normal teenager she'd see exiting the high school building her friends went to. Jared and Hayley had been 14 when they were killed. They had only just started at their school.

December first. Today would be the third anniversary of their deaths. It was three years ago tomorrow that she received the letter and told what happened.

Of course Hermione couldn't go to classes that day. She never did, and all her teachers, even Snape, strangely enough, understood. Harry and Ron knew only the most basic information – that a friend had died. It wasn't that she was hiding it from them, but she didn't want to burden them with her sorrow. And Ron, though he knew what a car was, would probably require a few hours of explaining the mechanics of a drivable vehicle.

So Hermione spent her morning in bed, until it was finally time, she decided, to get up. She didn't even get to her bathroom before falling down on the floor and letting about a piteous whimper. Staring at the carpet, she wondered why Harry didn't stay in his bed moping every time the thirty-first of October rolled around. Harry, she reasoned, had always been a fighter. After all, he had faced Voldemort and won on a number of occasions.

But Hermione couldn't convince herself to stay in the room. It was starting to suffocate her. Plus, she was still distressed over missing class. She decided that if she showered quickly she could make it to the Great Hall for lunch.

-

After class, Hermione made a beeline for the door. She had avoided questioning earlier, but if Draco had come looking for her; he probably knew something was up. However, Draco had the same idea. She had just gotten out the door when he caught her by the wrist.

"Come on, let's go," He said, tugging her away from the crowd.

"Um, Malfoy, I have to drop my books off," She said, trying to avoid the subject of her whereabouts, and also suddenly very annoyed with his behavior.

"Tell me where you were first," He said. It was a command. She _could_ merely tell him she was in her room and end the conversation.

"No."

"Excuse me?" He asked, eyebrows raised.

"It's none of your business." She replied sharply.

"It is my business! You don't miss classes just because! How was I supposed to know where you were? I was concerned!"

"Malfoy! For Christ's sake, I'm not a little girl. You don't need to be concerned about me!" Hermione gasped, realizing she was probably red faced once again.

At that moment, Harry and Ron rounded the corner. Hermione groaned at the looks on their faces. Their eyes moved from her to Malfoy and back again, before they both went off, simultaneously.

"MALFOY, WHAT'D YOU- "

"HERMIONE, YOU SHOULD- "

"FERRET, IF YOU HAVE- "

"THIS SCUM! WE- "

"HARRY! RON!" Hermione shrieked. They didn't stop, but she tried yelling over them. "Don't cause a scene! Not _here_! Draco wasn't – I was just – ALRIGHT, ENOUGH!" she yelled, a scream worthy of Molly Weasley. "Harry. Ron. Let's just go back to the common room. We can talk there."

-

She knew she couldn't hide out in Gryffindor forever, but she was buying time. Ron was still cooling down, even though Hermione had told him time and time again, he had blown the whole event out of proportion.

"Bloody Slytherins …" He was muttering.

"They aren't all that bad," Harry mumbled under his breath, but Hermione heard.

"Whaaat?" She questioned. "Harry, did _you _just say that?" She noticed the faint blush creeping up his cheeks. "What have you done with Harry?" She cried, grinning.

"Well, I mean …" He said. "A few of them are … in our Defense 'gainst Dark Arts class …" He mumbled. "I mean, we have to be in pairs sometimes, you know that, but … some a them aren't trying to kill me … y'know?" Harry asked hopefully. She certainly did not know. Hermione made a mental note to pay more attention in DADA next time!

"Harry … I've been in here a while listening to this …" She began, nodding at Ron, who was string into space as he continued on incoherently.

"Alright, alright, Mione, I get it," He said, grinning. They stepped over pillows and to the portrait hole.

"Bye, Ron!" Hermione called.

"Huh, what?" Ron was startled out of his daydream. "Oh, you're leaving? Already? You just got here!"

"Hardly," Harry muttered. Hermione just grinned.

-

In the Head's common room, Blaise was waiting for her. She was surprised when she didn't see Draco.

"You got Dray really worked up," He stated, sounding annoyed with her.

"Huh." She responded. "Well, he had no right to order me around like a dog,"

"I'm not talking about after class." He rolled his eyes. "I meant this morning. He was searching for you at breakfast, lunch, in the halls …"

"Well, I don't know why," She said, dismissing him and heading toward the spiral staircase.

Blaise just stared at her. They heard a ripping noise.

"Blaise, has Granger come back yet - oh." Draco was standing behind her, Hermione knew, but she didn't turn. Instead, she rushed up the staircase at twice the speed she usually did, making herself particularly dizzy. Draco followed her up.

"So what, you were here the whole time?" He asked. She knew he was referring to the morning.

"Yes." She responded dully.

"Why?" He asked. "Like I said – you don't just miss class without a reason."

"Why do you assume you know everything about me?" She cried. Hermione knew she was being rather moody today, but she had a reason!

"I – well, it's not like you'll tell me anything, so what choice do I have?" He yelled back.

"Fine, I'll tell you! For starters, two of my best friends are six foot under. Died today." She stated, on the verge of tears. "That enough information for you?"

Draco stared, stunned. "Wait … what?" He asked.

"Car accident. Three years ago. Died almost instantly, blah, blah, blah." She snapped viciously.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Draco asked. Hermione thought he sounded almost … caring.

"Because you wouldn't give a shit! You _don't_!"

"Of course I do!" Draco said quietly. "I'm not completely heartless …"

Hermione hiccupped, then rolled her eyes. "And Harry said not all Slytherins were bad!"

This caught Draco off guard. "Potter said that?" He asked.

"Yeah. He mentioned Defense Against the Dark Arts, too, I think." Hermione said, forgetting about the argument they were currently having.

"Last class, Potter was paired up with Blaise. I know, because I had to work with Finnigan," Draco said, scowling.

Hermione was always thinking. It didn't take her very long to look up at Draco, wide eyed. "Wait a minute. Blaise tells Pansy he has … a crush on Harry around the same time Harry decides not all Slytherin are scum?"

Draco stared back at her. "Wait. One Defense class … on partnership … you don't think?"

Hermione smirked. "Oh, yes. Blaise's feelings aren't one-sided."

Draco decided to worry about his best friend and his enemy later. Or, at least, in a few moments. "Are my feeling one-sided?" he asked.

"Huh?" Hermione was pulled from her thoughts. "What do you mean?" She asked, though she had a feeling she already knew.

"Well, I mean, I don't know you, but …" He began.

"Get to know me." She said. To Draco, it sounded more like a command. He raised one eyebrow.

"Okay, then …"

A/N: Those who guessed, I'm gonna state the obvious: Blaise is gay. Though the secret referred to in the last couple chapters was more along the lines of, 'Blaise has a crush on Harry'. Review!


	9. Discovery

Disclaimer: I don't have anything clever to put here. Sorry. (Not mine.)

The Room of Requirement was always a safe haven for her, Harry and Ron when they needed it. Which was often, considering the amount of times they had almost gotten themselves killed; or, at the very least, almost failed a class. So Hermione called on it in her time of need, once again. She brought Draco down. She knew he had been here before, if their fifth year was anything to go by. Still, she knew he couldn't have been down here for the reason she was bringing him.

She paced the hallway, three times, and Draco wished he knew what she was thinking. The room could contain anything … a bed, a bathtub …or a library. When Hermione stopped pacing and looked satisfied with herself, he reached toward the handle of the door that was now present.

"Ah, ah!" She reprimanded him, and shifted between him and the door. She peeked inside, and when she had decided everything was in order, slipped inside, waiting for him to follow.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Is everything okay? May I come in, or is there some big secret …" He protested obnoxiously.

"Just get in here!" She said, scowling. Why must he make everything so difficult?

The room was simple in that it was painted white and had carpeted floors. It was very large, square, and Draco recognized little else in it besides that. Hermione, however, did. She knew how to operate the mixing desks that were set up in front of an isolated recording room. The loudspeakers were numerous, as were the headphones and microphones that were hung on the walls and tangled on the floor. Hermione had already picked up an object Draco recognized to be the acoustic guitar she kept in her room. There looked to be many guitars in the room, including one that had four strings and one that had five. There was an enormous grand piano in the corner of the studio, two keyboards standing against the back wall, and some weird object that Draco would have described as 'a number of cylinders held up by poles'.

Hermione didn't even begin to strum the guitar because she had noticed Draco's face. He looked confused. She tried to stifle a laugh, and then failed. Draco's head snapped to her.

"What's so funny? I'm not laughing at you and your ridiculous machines!" He said, furrowing his brow. This only made Hermione laugh harder. She stood up and walked over to him, taking his hand. Draco blinked. For some reason, that was significant to him.

"Okay, where to begin. Okay, that thing over there, with all the buttons? That's a soundboard, or a mixing desk. That guitar I was just going to play? That's the first guitar I ever owned, it's acoustic. Then I have those two … the electric ones, see? And that piano … it's about one hundred years old! My mother bought it from an antique store before I was born. I've been playing since I was three … and this here is a bass guitar! I'm not very good at it, actually, I can hardly play at all. Oh, this is another bass. It has five strings, see? My dad plays it best. And that keyboard … the bigger one? It goes everywhere with me. Except Hogwarts, of course …" Hermione trailed off. Draco had just stood there, listening to her ramble, and he was moved.

"Wait, these are all your instruments?" Draco asked, shocked.

"Er … yeah. Copies of them, anyway. I had a very specific idea in mind when I came down here … this place exists back home,"

Draco didn't ask what country she considered 'home'. "Play something for me?" He asked, softly. She looked at him, startled out of her daze.

"Oh … oh! Of course." She said, grinning. She left her guitar, and walked over to the piano. There, she began to slowly hit the ivory keys. "_I don't mind the dirt … that comes with playing rough … I'd give you all … I'd tell you all … as that were enough ..."_

Her playing was beautiful. Her features were soft, and she looked relaxed when she played. Draco, too, was entirely at peace. He smiled at her the one time she looked at him. She didn't play long before looking up at him, smiling sheepishly.

"It's not finished yet … I rarely have time to play, with school and NEWTS and you and everything …" She trailed off, blushing.

"I'm not sure what to say, Mai. It was perfect," Draco said, uncharacteristically. Hermione gasped. Draco turned his head. "What?"

"Y … you called me 'Mai'," She said, sounding startled.

"Sorry," Draco said quickly. "Do you not like that?"

"No, I … I like it. It's just – that's what my friends … outside of Hogwarts, of course – called me," Hermione replied, slowly.

"Mai it is, then," Draco said with a wink.

-

Hermione returned to the Head room alone. She had sent Draco back to the Slytherin dorms, despite him begging and pleading to come back to her rooms with her. She rolled her eyes and smirked when she thought about him, and nearly ran into the seemingly empty knight's armor decorating the corridor.

Nothing could have prepared her for what she was about to see once she entered the dorm. As soon as she stumbled through the torn painting, she knew something was up. For one, the lights were out. It wasn't very late, maybe eight o'clock. She heard a thump, and before she gave herself time to be scared, flicked her wand in the general direction of the torches. On the floor in front of the couch was Harry. On top of Blaise. At least they had their clothes on.

"FUCK!" The three exclaimed in unison. Harry and Blaise looked at each other then at Hermione, who was staring at them, not with a look of shock, but a look of disbelief on her face.

"_Awkward_," Hermione squeaked.

"Mione, we can explain …" Harry trailed off.

Hermione plastered a fake grin on her face. "No need, no need, Harry. What you do – and with whom – is none of my business." Once again, Harry and Blaise looked at each other, and then back at her.

"No, I think we should, Granger," Blaise began. "See, you're kinda to blame – I mean – to thank for this,"

"What?" Hermione barely whispered. She was more concerned about getting out of this very embarrassing situation.

"Well, yeah, you see," Blaise began. He both looked, and sounded, hesitant. She wasn't used to seeing Blaise look like this. "When Draco came looking for you earlier, and you went into your room? Yeah, I heard yelling, and I figured you would have left Draco disfigured if I didn't go do something. And I overheard you talking about me and – well, basically just me, and my 'thing' for Potter," He concluded, allowing a smirk to slip onto his lips.

Harry gulped. "Yeah, so then, Blaise came looking for me – really, Hermione," he said when the older girl raised an eyebrow at him. "And we were talking, and then … well, you can imagine,"

"So … I don't quite understand. Is this just a hormonal thing or -" Hermione began, before she could get anywhere, she was interrupted by the raven haired boy.

"No, Mione … this is … well, we … I think, you know -" Harry gave up, frustrated.

"Get used to it, Granger," Blaise said, his smirk only getting bigger.

"So …" Harry began.

Hermione sighed. "Goodnight." There was a sense of finality in her voice that told the boys it had better be quiet enough to hear a pin drop when she retired to her room.

She grinned when she reached her room and let out a contented little laugh. At least some of her friends were happy. However, she was worried about how the rest of the castle would react. She also knew that Isabel would find out eventually. She sighed. Why did the young girl always get herself in way over her head?

A/N: (Mai pronounced 'My') Okay, I think it's blatantly obvious I don't know a lot about recording. However, most of my relatives are musicians and I have been in their studios a time or two. Oh yeah, I've become so attached to this Harry/Blaise pairing I just might write a little ficlet featuring the two of them. That's not a promise, however.


	10. Fallouts

Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine. Neither is anyone else.

The notice Hermione and Blaise posted in each common room announced the next Hogsmeade weekend coming up. It would be the last one before Christmas break, and because Hermione was planning on going home, she wanted to go with Ginny and Isabel. So before she posted the notice in the Gryffindor common room, she searched the two girls out.

"Gin! Hey, Ginny!" Hermione bellowed, chasing after her friend, who was walking with Colin Creevy by the lake. Ginny waved goodbye to him before running over to where Hermione stood.

"Mione, hi," She greeted. "What's so urgent?"

Hermione shook her head. "There's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up," she explained. "I wanted to tell you before you made plans. I hoped you, me, and Isabel could go,"

"Sounds like a plan," She grinned. Hermione looked over to where Colin was standing, talking to a couple other sixth year boys.

"So, what's up, anyway?" she asked, continuing to look over Ginny's shoulder at the boy. Ginny spun around to see what she was looking at.

"What, Colin? Hermione! What's gotten into you? You decided to play matchmaker now since you had a bit of luck with Harry and Blaise?" Ginny smirked knowingly.

"Heard about that, did you?" Hermione said, covering her face with her hand and giggling nervously.

"Yeah, you know. Harry told Ron in the corner of the common room. They're convinced no one can hear them there. Ha! Well, I listened in. So did half the room, I bet. People are bound to find out soon."

"People are bound to find what out soon?" Isabel had appeared beside them. Hermione jumped, she hadn't noticed her younger sister's presence.

"That Blaise and Harry are…" Ginny paused at the look on Hermione's face. Isabel raised and eyeball.

"Blaise and Harry are what? Werewolves? Long lost brothers? Shaving their heads?" Isabel pressed. Ginny sighed. Hermione might not want her sister to know, for whatever reason, but she would find out sooner or later, regardless.

"Blaise and Harry are dating," She said, matter-of-factly. Isabel looked taken aback, then smiled slightly.

"Oh, how great for them!" She squealed. "I must go find them!" As she started to run off in the direction of the castle, Hermione yelled after her. "What, Mione?" Isabel whined.

"D'you want to come with Ginny and I on the next Hogsmeade weekend?"

"But I'm only a second year!" Isabel protested.

"I'm head girl, Izzy. I'm sure it could be arranged." She replied with a grin.

"Oh! Okay then!" And Isabel continued her run to the castle.

-

It seemed that everyone else planned on going to Hogsmeade that last weekend before break, too. Hermione, Ginny, and Isabel squeezed through the crowds, intent on getting to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The shop was crammed with students, as it usually was. Fred and George were standing in the corner talking to Ron and Harry. Blaise stood beside Harry, the raven haired boys hand clasped firmly in his. The three girls approached the boys.

"Why, hello, Hermione, Isabel- " Fred began.

"Ginny. How may we be of service to you?" George finished. The girls were surreptitiously making sure they weren't about to become the victim's of the twins newest prank. It looked safe, but you never knew. Blaise seemed to notice.

"Would you like to come with us to The Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer?" Blaise asked the girls, gesturing to Harry and Ron. Hermione looked like she was about to decline, but then gave him a small smile.

"Why not? What would a Hogsmeade weekend be without one?"

-

The six Hogwarts students sat down at a booth in The Three Broomsticks. Blaise was the only Slytherin there, but he didn't look uncomfortable. Hermione began to wonder where his Slytherin friends were, including Draco. Her face must have betrayed what she was thinking, because Blaise addressed her on the subject.

"Draco made other plans." He told her simply. Hermione began to protest.

"That's nice. I don't care…" she trailed off when Madame Rosmerta appeared at their table. She stared intently at her – or rather, just past her. She wasn't worrying about ordering her drink. Draco had just walked through the door, a blonde, fifth year Ravenclaw with him. Hermione recognized the girl because she had caught her, on numerous occasions, out after curfew with boys. She scowled.

When Rosmerta left, Draco strode over to the table. Hermione had been staring at him, but suddenly became very interested in her butterbeer. "Blaise. Interesting company you've chosen." Blaise looked like he wanted to say something unfavorable, but instead smirked at his friend.

"Interesting company _you've _chosen, Draco." He said, and a look passed between them. Draco then turned to Hermione.

"Jealous, Granger?" Draco questioned. Hermione forced herself to look up at him, and over his shoulder at the girl he was with. She didn't look pleased that he was talking to them. _Good_, Hermione thought. She caught the girl's eye, and smiled deviously.

Hermione chose to remain silent, looking up at him, any trace of earlier malice gone from her face. Draco scoffed and returned to the blonde. There was awkwardness present in the group that hadn't been there before. Blaise coughed, and only Hermione recognized that he was trying to cover up a laugh. She narrowed her eyes at him and he immediately straightened, starting to talk to Harry and Ron about, what else, Quidditch.

-

Hermione, Ginny, and Isabel had a much easier time on their way back to Hogwarts. Harry, Ron, and Blaise had decided to go to Honeydukes in search of chocolate frogs. Draco Malfoy had exited the shop at the same moment the boys had entered - without the blonde Ravenclaw. He'd followed Hermione up the street. When he finally reached her, he grabbed for her hand. She glanced over her shoulder, then spun her body around when she say who it was.

"Oh, what now, Malfoy?" she snapped angrily. She had been in a good mood until the Three Broomsticks incident. Draco flinched inwardly at her sharp words.

"Try this, Granger." He replied emotionlessly. In her hand he placed what looked like a piece of chocolate, wrapped in what looked like muggle cellophane. He turned then, and walked back in the direction he came. _How strange_, Hermione thought. It turned out that what he had given her was a type of fudge from Honeydukes she had never tried before. He knew her too well – she loved chocolate. Ginny and Isabel were looking at her oddly, but Hermione merely shrugged and enjoyed her chocolate. She felt her anger at the boy subside, but when she spared a final glance over her shoulder and saw him with the Ravenclaw girl who'd accompanied him to the Three Broomsticks, it returned full force.

-

Hermione didn't see Draco again until the next day. She went down to the Entrance hall for breakfast very early. It was Sunday, and they were leaving for Christmas hols the next day. She wanted to get her things in order that morning. Apparently Draco had the same idea. She saw him coming up from the dungeons before her saw her, but didn't advert her eyes. He seemed glad to see her, and Hermione had to admit, she was taken aback.

"Mione!" He waved her over, and, against her will, her legs carried her over. She tried her hardest to glare at him, but failed. Instead, she just managed to look sad.

"You're Ravenclaw didn't meet expectations, Malfoy?" she asked, crossing her arms and furrowing her brow. Draco sighed.

"She's not – Granger – why are you making this difficult?"

"Excuse me?" The malice in Hermione's voice was obvious. Draco met her eyes, shocked. She grabbed him forcefully, and dragged him over to a nearby alcove. Draco didn't protest. The door was left ajar, so he could always run for it if she got violent.

"How could you, Draco? I thought… I thought…" she covered her face with her hands. "I thought there was an 'us'." She concluded simply. Draco made an unrecognizable sound.

"Me and Lei.." Draco began. So _that _was her name. "We're _nothing_. Why do you have to be a silly, know-it-all, ignorant Gryffindor who jumps to conclusions all the time, who thinks she knows everything?" He knew him words were a mistake. She didn't yell at him, or strike him. She shook her head, brushed passed him, and made a beeline for the Great hall.

Harry was already sitting at the table, much to Hermione's surprise. How much time had she spent with Draco? She sat across from him, collapsing in her seat forcefully. Harry studied her intently before speaking.

"Hermione," he groaned, "What did you do?" Hermione looked at him, wide eyed.

"_I _didn't do anything. Draco was the one with that… _girl_ yesterday. I as merely stating the facts." Harry looked at her.

"You didn't push him away again, did you?" He asked hopelessly. Hermione began to protest.

"He said I was jumping to conclusions!" she explained.

"You were." Hermione's jaw dropped to the ground. Since when did Harry side with Slytherins? Especially Malfoy? "Hermione, I hang out with Ron all the time, and Blaise doesn't accuse me of having a relationship with him."

"That's not the same." Hermione was on the verge of tears.

"It isn't?" Harry pressed. Hermione looked back at Harry. He was staring over her shoulder. She turned, only to see Draco turn his head away.

"Fine." She sighed. What could she do? There was only one thing _to_ do. She stood up and strode confidently over the Slytherin table, though she was feeling anything but confident. Draco watched her out of the corner of his eye, but when she was standing right in front of him, across the table, he couldn't ignore her any more. He looked up, and at that moment, she leaned over, and kissed him. It was the softest of kisses, and there were a few shouts from the Slytherins until she pulled away, seconds later. They were both smiling.

A/N: Okay, this chapter was kinda all over the place. It definitely didn't turn out how I was planning.


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